lf, but there was definitely a guilty curiosity in there as well. Steve tried to stay focused. "And I know that he made the decision to stop."

"But what you don't know," Nick told him, "Is that he was—still is—the best in the world at it. Bar none. Tony Stark takes genius to an unprecedented level, and his area of expertise happens to be something we could sure as hell use."

"All those cracks he makes about being a genius?" Clint snorted. "Not cracks. Not even close."

"We haven't asked for his help before for a number of reasons, largely because he made it pretty damn clear he's out of the weapons game—"

"And he's a pain in my ass," Phil muttered.

"—but we're running out of options." Nick shot Phil a look. "This situation in New Mexico…if it's anything close to what I think it is, we're going to need that kind of firepower. Iron Man has made it more than clear he doesn't want to get involved with us; next best thing can do is reverse-engineer him and suit up one of our own in something similar."

"Reverse-engineer…take it apart, you mean? How could he do that if we don't have it?" Steve settled for pointing out the flaw in Nick's plan, but the truth was, he didn't even like the idea of Tony and Iron Man so much as in the same sentence.

Loathe as he was to admit it, there was…something, between him and Iron Man. Nothing as real as what he could have with Tony, but he wasn't blind to his own emotions. He'd been chasing after the supposed villain for almost a year now; guilty as he felt about it, he knew going after Iron Man gave him a thrill, knew that underneath all their fight and banter there was…something. Nothing he could put into words, nothing concrete or even logical, but something nheless.

"He's Tony Stark." Nick snorted, as if that was all that need be said. "I'd bet good money he's already figured it out. That man never did see a machine he didn't want to take apart."

"I suppose."

Steve still didn't like the idea, but there wasn't much else he could say.

Tony was pretty sure his strange double life couldn't get much weirder.

What had started out as an act, giving up his hedonist playboy lifestyle for a normal, calm life as a teacher, was now questionable. It wasn't that he didn't miss parts of his old lifestyle—Tony was always going to be a spend first, ask questions later kind of guy—but that was just it. He only missed parts, and not the parts people probably would've expected. Not even the parts he would've expected.

He missed his kickass house. He missed being able to just walk down to his workshop, instead of having to fly up to some camouflaged plane. He missed the freedom to do whatever he wanted without worrying about Stane watching his every move.

Surprisingly, though, he didn't miss the parties. Or having eous women in his bed—he really thought he'd miss that one, but aside from getting reacquainted a bit with his right hand, it wasn't much of hardship. He didn't even really miss the booze. He still drank, obviously, but it was in low doses and with goodpany instead of a dozen shots with half naked women wanting his dick and skeezy businessmen wanting his credit card.

It was a very different experience.

Alcohol had always been a balm of sorts, a way to et how much he fucking hated himself, but…it was a terrifying thing to realize, but he was happy, for maybe the first time in his life. He liked not having to always be on for the reporters and fans and executives, to be able to just kick back and play pranks on Clark and tease Natalie and goof off with Steve.

He'd never really had friends to pay attention to before. Pepper was always around regardless, and Rhodey only got a few weekends off a year, which was easy to clear. Clark, Natalie, now Steve…he liked spending time with them, and it'd be hard to do that if he was up to his ears in tits and tequila.

He was content with the way things were, and he wasn't sure what that meant for his future. He still wanted more than anything to get his revenge on Stane and regain control of hispany, but he was going to miss this low-key life more than he would've ever expected.

He had no idea what to do about it, either. His double life was gettingplicated, made even more so by Steve's generally wonderful existence and Tony's startlingly strong desire to keep him around for as long as humanly possible, but as with most things, it could always get worse.

"Your country needs you, Stark."

"I'm not a soldier," Tony spat into the line, not needing to fake the fire behind it, "Don't give me that enlistment crap. How the hell did you get this number, anyway?"

"Never lost it."

So Nick Fury, old friend to his father and backer of the Cap Squad, was finally calling him in.

Tony had known the day woulde, though he'd have expected something big to happen before it did. Maybe there was something he didn't know about? He really ought to have a peek at SHIELD's files, but to do that he'd need inside ess, and he couldn't risk Iron Man going in; too many variables, too many ways for things to go wrong.

"We're asking you to build us a soldier, not be one," Nick amended, "Iron Man may not be the most destructive villain we've encountered, but he's damned sure the hardest to catch."

Tony allowed himself a moment to preen, before giving Nick shit.

"You've let him run around blowing things up for a year without giving me a call. What's changed?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, Stark. Can you build us something similar or not?"

That was about as close to admittance as Nick Fury would probably evere. Tony definitely needed to get into SHIELD's system. Iron Man couldn't get in without getting arrested and damasked, but if they let him inside their headquarters for even ten minutes…he needed to take the consulting job. Not without a little leverage first, though.

"Don't kid yourself, can I was never the question here, Nicky."

"Always with the jokes. Aren't you at all interested in the capture of the person who's been tearing yourpany apart?"

"Not mypany anymore." Tony shrugged, though Nick couldn't see him over the phone. "And I don't know if you heard, but my departure had a little something to do with not making weapons anymore. What if I manage to replicate this Iron Man suit, and the guy you put inside goes loco too? Then you've got two over-powered technovillains on the loose."

It took him maybe an hour, but they eventually managed to bang out a verbal agreement to which Tony graciously "conceded"…under one condition. He then waited a couple hours, banging around in the shop, until it was late enough that he knew his call would wake the other person up.

"Eyyy, Rhodey!"

"God, Tony, it's 2 in the morning, what could you possibly want?"

"What's that in the sky?"

"Tony, I told you not to drunk dial me anymore."

"It's a bird, it's a plane—"

"Are you high right now? That's a new one, at least—"

"It's War Machine!"

"Alright, I'll bite, you maniac, what's a war machine?"

"It's your superhero name!"

"We've been over this, Tones, I'm a soldier, not a superhero, I don't need some stupid nickname—"

"How would you like to take out Iron Man?"

There was a long pause, probably as Rhodey'smon sense fought with his curiosity. Then,

"I'm listening."

"SHIELD hired me to steal Iron Man's technology and create a better one. I said no, they pushed, I agreed on the condition that I got to choose who suits up. You're the best man I know, James, and a hell of a pilot. You're the only person I'd trust with this. You in?"

"…you had to call about this at two in the morning?"

"It's not cool and important and life-changing if it doesn't involve a call to action in the dead of the night!"

"You're insane, Tony."

"Is that a yes?"

"Hell yeah that's a yes."

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